


Will You Fake Date Me (But This Time For Real)?

by AlyssiaInWonderland



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Basically, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fire Lord Zuko, Gay Zuko (Avatar), Gen, Idiots in Love, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Zuko (Avatar), Past Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Post-Season/Series Finale, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, and get together eventually for good reasons, it's a whole thing, oblivious sokka, they pretend to date for arbitrary reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:46:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21938437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyssiaInWonderland/pseuds/AlyssiaInWonderland
Summary: Zuko is determined to convince his Uncle that he is not, in fact, pining after Sokka.Sokka is desperate to convince Katara and Aang that he is not, in fact, pining after Suki.When Sokka's scheme to avoid pity means Zuko and him must fake date for an entire diplomatic event, shenanigans, realisations and confessions ensue.Aka: they fake date, they realise they're mutually pining idiots, and then they date for real
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Mai/Ty Lee (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Toph Beifong/Suki, though all but Zukka are background really
Comments: 193
Kudos: 2106





	1. Will You Fake Date Me?

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and Zuko was perfectly fine, thank you very much.

No, he was not brooding as he stared over the caldera, down at the grand palatial view.

Yes, if you got into the semantics, technically speaking, he was pining.

No, he did not want to talk about it.

“Firelord Zuko, I-”

“I don’t need more jasmine tea, Uncle!” Zuko dragged his eyes from the window, and gestured, emphatically, at the small collection of tea cups of varying temperature and fullness.

“Actually, I was going to say you’re almost late.” Uncle Iroh said, his tone amused.

“They arrive in five minutes! Why didn’t you get me sooner?” Zuko frantically gathered his things, hastily cramming his hair into shape and checking over his robes.

“I tried to disturb you gently, only you ignored the tea.” Uncle Iroh was still half-laughing, utterly relaxed. “Do not worry, nephew. When you are the Firelord, it’s impossible to be late; they are all early.”

“As I have said many times, far less justifiably, now is not the time for your proverbs!” Zuko quipped, as he followed Uncle Iroh out of his rooms and proceeded, at a sturdy pace, to the docks.

“It was no proverb. They cannot start the greeting ceremony without you.” They laughed, Iroh kindly and Zuko nervously. “Or if we break our necks - slow down!”

“Sorry, Uncle.” Zuko moderated his pace, and attempted to regain the sense of calm from just a few minutes ago.

“It’s alright.” Iroh, still seemed far too amused for Zuko’s comfort. “You must be excited to see your friends again.”

“Yes.” He replied, easily. “I am.” It still felt strange, being so honest about his attachment to people. 

Even his time with Mai, dating and all, had been fairly reserved, in presentation if not practise. It came naturally to both of them; repression and ennui; being born to a noble family, one that would never support your true passions, had a way of distancing you from your emotions in a way neither of them had cared for, nor could much avoid at the time. Of course, now Mai was dating Ty Lee, she would have all the emotion she needed. The image of the bubbly cheerleader clinging to Mai’s stoic form had buoyed him through many a long banquet, happy in their happiness. Perhaps a little tinged with longing, for what they had, but never jealousy. That would be unbecoming, of a Firelord and a friend.

“I’m glad.” Iroh said, warmly. He seemed no longer amused, simply genuine, and before Zuko could respond - though how he could, to such kindness, was still hard for him - they reached the dock where the Southern Water Tribe Ambassadorial Fleet was waiting.

* * *

The ceremonial flags were ready, blue and red and white and gold, intermingled proudly. The guards prepared and gangplanks laid. As he settled in his position atop the dock stairway, he raised his hand in greeting, steeling his arm for a long time waving. The band and royal announcer clanged into action, the Fire Nation’s traditional music somewhat restored from Ozai’s rule.

“Welcoming the Southern Water Tribe Ambassadors, for the third anniversary of the Peace Treaty Talks! First, Chief Hakkoda of the Southern Water Tribe.”

Zuko was gratified by the ripple of cheering and applause through the crowd of civilians, decked out in variously authentic and questionable Water Tribe attire, and the clothes of other nations, too. Peace time was so wonderfully colourful.

“Ambassador Sokka, of the Southern Water Tribe, Councilman of Republic City.”

Sokka walked off the ship at the sedate pace that befitted his rank, following Hakkoda. His eyes were wide and bright with the loud welcome. The people here had clearly not forgotten his role as a lauded war-hero. A few people nearer the front of the crowds reached out, as if to try and touch his bare arms. Zuko couldn’t quite hold it against them. Sokka’s biceps had filled out considerably, and he was still as skillful and strong a warrior and tactician as one could hope for. Not to mention the sharp jawline, and the tattoos adding to the mystique, emphasizing his beauty.

Zuko caught Sokka’s gaze, realising he’d tuned out the crowd, the announcements, and had the pleasure of watching Sokka’s expression move from wonder to joy. Sokka gently touched Hakkoda’s arm, and they leaned in to converse. Hakkoda nodded, and Sokka was bounding up the steps, two at a time, and then he was crushing Zuko in a distinctly indecorous hug.

Zuko flailed briefly, returning the hug half to ensure he was firmly latched on as his feet were uprooted. The world span and he was engulfed in Sokka, his face squished against the other man’s shoulder and fluffy hood. He settled into the embrace, laughing, as he was set gently on his feet, and could see his friend again, up close.

He had to tilt his head up, to meet his eyes. Zuko’s breath caught, hands still caught on Sokka’s arms from the hug. The spin had made him a little dizzy, and it would be unprofessional of him to fall over after a simple welcoming greeting, after all.

“Firelord Zuko.” Sokka grinned, and Zuko was not comforted to know that his friend still had something of that manic, inventive gleam in his eyes. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Ambassador Sokka.” Zuko said, somewhat faintly. “Likewise.”

They were interrupted by a loud throat-clearing from next to them - a tandem effort from Chief Hakkoda and Uncle Iroh, who were mid-handshake. Their near-identical expressions of indulging their charges was highly disconcerting.

“Oh! My apologies. We’ll - catch up later, okay? I...have a favour to ask of you, actually.” Sokka abruptly stepped back, hand reaching to tug at his ponytail - a sure sign of chagrin.

“Of course.” Zuko nodded, still recovering as Chief Hakkoda gripped his hand, warmly.

“Thank you for agreeing to host us, Firelord Zuko.” Hakkoda patted his arm, rough, but not unfriendly.

“I’m happy to stand here, and host all the nations. It is an honour to be a part of something I once thought to be impossible.” Zuko bowed, and his staff followed suit. “Will you allow us to escort you and your retinue to the palace?”

They wound their way, in a bright procession through the streets of the caldera. Their pace was slow, to accommodate the people who had turned out in celebration, but otherwise pleasant. A little noisy for conversation, perhaps.

By the time they reached the palace, Iroh and Hakkoda were exchanging notes on the merits of different tea brewing temperatures, and Sokka was waving animatedly at everyone nearby, seeming utterly unaware of the effect his presence had on the swooning young people around them. Zuko rolled his eyes, and smothered a smirk. Sokka claimed to be a charmer, but he’d seen little evidence of it. Though, he must admit, the lack of guile was quite...endearing. Though not universally so, if his singledom after Suki left for Kyoshi Island was anything to go by.

Once the palace gates closed around them, however, Sokka’s cheerful expression fell.

“Sokka? Are you-” Zuko yelped, as Sokka grabbed his arm.

“Listen, we need to talk.” Sokka said, urgently. He was eyeing the retreating backs of their respective parental figures, as if they would turn and skewer him at any point. Which, Zuko reflected, was a glaring oversight, because the guards had all nearly jumped into action when Zuko had - manfully squeaked.

“Well. We are talking.” Zuko said, somewhat awkwardly. Sokka was behaving very strangely - stranger than normal, that is.

“In private!” He hissed, gesturing to the guards, who looked a tad offended.

“Uh.” Zuko frowned. Usually, Sokka was far more considerate.

“Please? I promise it’s urgent.”

“I see.” Zuko did not, in fact, see, but he could see the effect this was having on his friend, and it was not a good one. “We can discuss this in my chambers. Though,” He added, lips twitching into a smile. “You’ll have to find somewhere to sit that’s not covered with tea.”

“Oh, okay." Sokka nodded, mollified. "Wait, what?”

* * *

“You did what?” Zuko glared at Sokka.

“I kind of maybe might have told Katara that we’re dating…” Sokka repeated, wincing visibly.

“But - Sokka,” Zuko paused, turning to look at Sokka with a wide, earnest expression. “We aren’t dating.”

“No.”   
  
“Then why-”   
  
“Because! Katara was going on and on at me about needing to start dating again, put myself out there instead of pining after Suki, and I’d had enough!” Sokka exploded. “I told her I’m over Suki, and besides, she’s dating Toph now, and I’m happy for them. But Katara wouldn’t believe me, and she wanted to set me up with someone, so I had to act! So I told her I was already seeing someone.”

“And the person you decided to tell her you’re dating...was...me?”

“You were the first person that - that I thought I could trust not to laugh at me too much, okay?” Sokka stumbled over the words, uncharacteristically self conscious. The sight of the normally unabashed Sokka, flushing with embarrassment, tugged at Zuko’s heartstrings, firmly.

“Oh, Sokka.” Zuko softened. He couldn’t help it. “I’m not going to laugh at you.”

“Thanks.” Sokka bit his lip, and leaned forward. “So does that mean you’ll do it?”   
  
Zuko eyed his desperate friend. The anxiety wrinkling his forehead into a slight frown, the way his blue eyes were clouded by worry. Even in distress, Sokka was - fascinating. Zuko could spend days learning the exact sweep of his brows, the subtle shifts in his features, and never tire of it. He pulled himself out of his observations with a healthy dose of practise and repression, and forced out a nod, even as he scowled at the situation.

“Yes.” His throat felt tight. The burning torches on the walls felt too close to his skin, but too far for their warmth to provide comfort. “I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend. But only for the two weeks of the Treaty, and only while Katara and Aang are around.”

“Uh…”   
  
“You told Hakkoda, too, didn’t you. And now, everyone thinks we’re dating. So it’s for the whole time anyone can see us.” Zuko said, resignedly.

“Maybe?” Sokka scrunched up his face, and shrugged, trying to play it off.

“Agni above!” Zuko thunked his head into his palm in exasperation, carefully not examining where he had acquired that particular habit. “You owe me, Sokka. Big time.”

“So you’ll still do it?” Sokka sounded painfully hopeful.

“I’ll do it.” Zuko conceded, darkly.

“Yes!” Sokka’s expression melted into pure relief, and he laughed, clapping Zuko on the shoulder, leaving his hand resting there for just long enough that Zuko’s treacherous heart started beating faster. “I knew I could count on you.” He grinned. “Don’t worry, it’ll be over before you know it! Who knows, being my boyfriend might not be so bad. I have it on good authority that I can be very charming.”

“Sure.” Zuko hoped his voice didn’t sound as weak as he felt. “I feel very...charmed…”

“Hey! Enough with the sarcasm, that’s my thing! Okay, so I didn’t start out very strong, I’ll admit, but that was before. You’re gonna get the whole Sokka package, starting now. I can tell already that I’ll have to carry this performance.” Sokka squeezed Zuko’s shoulders and winked, then let go, turning to run out of the room. “See you once I’ve unpacked, darling.”

“Right.” Zuko watched as Sokka darted out of his rooms, the door swinging shut behind him with an ominous thud.

_ Well, _ he thought, numbly.  _ I’m fucked _ .


	2. Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Sokka begin their fake dating in earnest. Repression is mostly effective. Mostly.
> 
> Only, Zuko is practically ready to implode and its not close to over yet. Pining ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi All. I thought this would fit into two chapters. It does not. It's three chapters now. These pining idiots would NOT realise it's mutual for FAR longer than I planned!

Zuko was not unaware that his fixation on Sokka was intense.

What he had not fully anticipated, was just how little the compulsion would lessen over time and exposure.

* * *

“Hey, Zuko, you’ve been re-writing the reparations documents for hours.”

Sokka slid into the seat next to Zuko, and gently nudged his shoulder. 

“Sokka, I have to have these ready for the day after tomorrow.” Zuko kept his eyes firmly on the paper, because otherwise he’d focus on Sokka, and his tiredness just made the impulses stronger. Katara and Aang were, technically, also working on their papers - in reality Aang had fallen asleep on the desk and Katara was idly braiding her hair loopies while alternately glaring at the passages of her writing that needed work, and looking curiously at Sokka and Zuko.

“That leaves a whole, entire day between now and then.” Sokka entreated.

“Sokka-” 

“ _ Please _ .” Sokka moved his hand to gently rest on Zuko’s free one, interlacing their fingers, slowly as if hoping not to startle him. His hand was warm. Zuko froze, dropped his pen with a soft thunk. “You’re exhausted, and on edge, and you’ve been rereading the same sentence for five minutes. You’re allowed a break. Resting doesn’t mean you don’t care. It means you care enough to make sure you’re up to doing the paperwork well.” 

Sokka’s thumb brushed over the skin on the back of Zuko’s hand. He could feel the whorls of his thumbprints catching, the repeated, soothing motion tingling. Zuko’s fingers twitched, involuntarily. He let his gaze drift from the writing, to Sokka’s sweetly concerned face. Apart from the hand-holding, everything was - normal. Just Sokka, caring about him. His thumb ghosted over his skin again, and Zuko had to bite back a faint sound, his lips parting, his eyes torn between sliding shut and just relaxing entirely into the sensation, and drinking in the way Sokka’s hand was tangled with his, how their skin contrasted, but looked so - good, and right, together.

Sokka’s other hand gripped his wrist, fingers stroking gently down his inner wrist as he tugged Zuko upright, out of his chair. The casual gesture made Zuko feel almost clumsy, the warmth and magnetism of Sokka’s touch even more vivid in his drowsy mind. He swayed a little, towards Sokka, and was gratified when a supportive arm was slung carefully around him.

“That’s it, buddy. Let’s get you to bed.” Sokka ran his fingers over Zuko’s knuckles, and Zuko blinked up at him, sleepily.

“I bet you will.” Katara quipped, snickering to herself, quietly.

“Hey! Shut up and get your own boyfriend to bed!” Sokka hiss-whispered. He then turned back to Zuko, with a far less harsh tone. “Bed?”

“‘Kay.” Zuko let himself, just this once, be swept up in the care being given to him. Surely, to accept Sokka’s help - freely given, if partially under pretence - wasn’t too deplorable?

“God, sleepy you is heavy. Couldn’t you work out a bit less, make my life easier by not having so much muscle to haul around?” Sokka joked, as they made their rambling way to Zuko’s rooms.

“You’re one to talk.” Zuko just about had enough energy to roll his eyes, before sliding down onto the nearest comfortable surface Sokka would let him collapse onto.

“And that’s your couch, not your b- oh, never mind. Be a good firebender and get some rest.”

“Yeah, whatever, biceps guy.” Zuko mumbled. The last thing he heard before falling asleep was Sokka’s surprised laughter.

* * *

Zuko did not want to face Sokka. After the previous night, where he had practically been carried to bed, it was just one straw too many in what he was coming to predict would be a string of humiliating incidents, where his feelings for Sokka let him rely on his friend altogether too much. Quite apart from it being blatantly taking advantage of their - pact. Of course Sokka would have felt obliged to look after him, especially in front of Katara and Aang. He should have caught his tiredness earlier, called for some coffee. Anything to prevent the oversight that led to his boundaries dropping so low. Zuko flushed at the memory of Sokka’s arms supporting him, strong and awake - like he should have been himself. It had felt so nice, so natural to just rest. He never should have given in to that weakness.

He was so busy glaring uncomfortably at his feet as he walked, that he failed entirely to notice Sokka until he crashed right into him. He reeled back, scrabbling against the wall for some purchase, or even some shreds of dignity. Neither were forthcoming, the stone walls too smooth and unforgiving. Instead, he was caught by his friend, like some swooning, blushing imbecile.

Maybe he could become a part time oracle.

Or perhaps it was just that what his Uncle would call pessimism, was simply realistic in Zuko’s truly, remarkably absurd life.

“Good morning.” Sokka grinned at him, seeming totally unconcerned that he was holding Zuko up by his waist and shoulders, in a bizarre, dance-like posture. “Are you feeling more rested?” His lips quirked up in a smile that Zuko knew was fond, but felt stinging in the wake of his shame.

“I’m fine.” He said, stiffly. Sokka’s face was so close to his, that he could feel the warmth of his breath on his neck. He shivered, and Sokka pulled him upright. He tilted his head, in an examining gesture that was characteristically curious. And not at all cute.

“Are you sure?” Sokka’s hand felt heavy, where it still rested on his shoulder. Comfortable, regardless. Zuko wanted - he wanted a hug, and to feel Sokka’s carefulness fully focussed on him. He wanted - Zuko swallowed hard, and nodded.

“Okay.” Sokka stepped back, and slid their hands together. “You’re heading to breakfast?”

“Yeah.” Zuko had already had a cup of tea, but his mouth felt drier than the air in summer. He wasn’t used to Sokka being quite so emphatically tactile. Zuko caught sight of Katara and Aang, behind him. At least that explained some of it. “I’d literally fight you for a plate of grape-oranges right now.” He tried to remain deadpan, or at least to let some tiny bit of the frustration and confusion he felt through, but he simply couldn’t. Even without trying, Sokka could coax a laugh out of him in the worst of moods.

“Oh yeah? Think you could take me?” Sokka teased, as they entered the breakfast room.

“Please, we don’t need to hear about the two of you and any ‘taking’!” Toph yelled, from her seat inside. Apparently she had decided to get up early today.

“Oh God, save me.” Sokka appeared genuinely terrified of their earthbending friend.

“Not until I’ve eaten my grape-oranges.” Zuko quipped, and they giggled at the joke.

“They’ve been like this all the time so far.” Aang confided to Toph.

“Like what?” Sokka protested.

“Sickeningly cute.” Katara smirked. “It’s good that you’re happy, but could you be a bit less obnoxiously into each other?”

“Well, I think it’s sweet.” Suki appeared in the doorway. “Good morning, Ambassador Sokka. Firelord Zuko. I apologise for coming to the talks so late-”

“Suki!” Sokka exclaimed, cutting her off. “How come you’re so late?”

“-but I was delayed by an incident with some fire-newts.” She finished, glaring at Sokka, before relaxing and sitting by Toph, looping an arm around her shoulders. “Congratulations, you two. It’s about time.”

There was a degree of assent around the table that Zuko felt was a tad unwarranted. Was he truly so obvious? A quick glance at Sokka revealed that he also seemed disconcerted. Good - at least he hadn’t figured it out yet.

“Well, anyway.” Zuko cleared his throat. “Fire newts?”

Suki set down her newly acquired cup of tea, and began to regale them with her tale, and Zuko relaxed with a sigh. No more confusing banter, for now. His morning had already been quite enough as it was.

The rest of the day, and his papers and speech, passed without further great incident.

The first official break in the peace talks was due tomorrow, and Zuko was hoping that he could use the day to blow off a little steam in the sparring grounds. Between the pressure of the talks, and his emotional turmoil, he was exhausted and on edge. Since exposure therapy to Sokka’s...Sokka-ness...hadn’t worked, perhaps spending some time away from him, and hitting things, would help. He had often found working up a sweat in the training grounds settled his mind, though a good sparring partner was hard to come by, especially for his dao.

There was a time when Sokka would have barely qualified as a contender for a match, but that time had long since passed.

Unfortunately, this fact led to some rather unproductive trains of thought.

Sokka practising. Sokka and him sparring. Sokka and him - Zuko growled at himself in frustration, and clenched his fist to snuff out the lights in his bedroom.

He’d be fine after some sleep. And some ice. And - 

* * *

Zuko laid down his dao, and untethered his third training dummy from the ground. He hefted it’s weight, a little unsteadily after his workout, and dumped it next to the only slightly smouldering remains of his first two targets of the morning.

He moved to sit next to his swords, aligned with a beam of sunshine that cut through the buildings and trees, into the depression in the training courtyard. The stone was warm. He shut his eyes and felt the rays on his skin, soothing and familiar. Sweat was making his tunic stick to his back, beaded across his hairline and temples, so he gave in and stripped off his shirt. He could always carry it back to the laundry on his way to bathe before lunch.

The sunlight was a rich glow of reds and golds behind his eyelids, and the sensation of it washed over his skin like waves of healing-water. His tired, aching muscles relaxed under it’s gentle pressure. His breaths gradually deepened and evened out, until he could taste the fire in it, licking close to his lips but never quite spilling over. Peace stole over him. 

He had been right to seek solace in training, and in meditation. Connection to his element was grounding - and this was no contradiction, according to Iroh’s teachings, which Zuko was inclined to trust. If lightning could be bent like water flowed, and the sun could feel like healing, he was sure that the warmth in the air was another part of him, and that sun on stone and the source of fire itself, could have a grounding, balancing influence when reached for with respect instead of fear.

“Woah, leave some for the rest of us, babe.”

Zuko’s fragile calm was shattered by the familiarly, warmly teasing cadence of his not-boyfriend’s voice.

“Go get your own practise grounds.” Zuko retorted, a smile twisting it’s way reluctantly onto his features as his eyes flicked open, watching Sokka’s exaggeratedly offended posture.

“How could you, the Fire Lord, deny a humble Ambassador a training arena?” Sokka leaped down into the slightly sunken section Zuko had been attempting to meditate in. He nudged Zuko with his boot to shuffle him, and proceeded to sit next to him, all elbows and knees shoved painfully into Zuko until he was forced to concede ground and sunlight, sharing the coveted beam.

“Hey!” Zuko protested, but it was token at best. Even if, between the sun, the surprise, and Sokka, he was getting uncomfortably hot.

“We’re boyfriends, Zuko.” Sokka informed him seriously. “That means we have to share. Training grounds, patches of sunlight…” 

“And apparently also physical space.” He commented, dryly. Zuko realised, abruptly, that Sokka was pressed right up against him. Shirtless. He bit his lip, hard.

“Hell yeah we do.” Sokka slid him a sly grin, and a wink that was unfairly smooth. Zuko coughed, purely to hide the way he could feel his blood rushing to his cheeks in response to the act. It wasn’t even meant to be attractive, it was just a joke, and yet -

“There’s nobody else here, Sokka. You don’t have to pretend.” Zuko stood, slightly shakily. He walked over to pick up his dao, and when he looked back, Sokka was staring at him, eyes wide and - almost hurt. They both looked away, hastily.

“Yeah.” Sokka stood, and cleared his throat. “Habit, I guess. Actually I came out to practise, but you seem to have used up all the training dummies.”

“Oh, yeah.” Zuko looked up, sheepishly, and was relieved to see that Sokka looked more awkward than upset or angry. “Sorry about that.”

“I guess you’re not finding the Peace Talks so peaceful, huh.” The teasing was a touch off, but Zuko wasn’t going to question it now he’d been given an out.

“It’s not exactly soothing, having to speak eloquently for a nation while hoping you don’t insult anyone or look stupid.” He grimaced. “Not that I have a right to complain. By all accounts, I’m lucky.”

“Wait,  _ you _ are lucky? Zuko-” Sokka had gone confused and concerned again, which was exactly what Zuko had been trying to avoid.

“I get that I’ve had a lot of bad luck, that my past was, uh, rough. But I am also fortunate. I’m able to do my duty to my country and the world, and have a great amount of agency and power. It is my responsibility to uphold that trust and opportunity by doing well and representing my people and my country as best as I can. It’s a unique and remarkably privilege. I just hope I can live up to what they need.” He hadn’t meant to ramble about this. 

He hadn’t meant to be so jumpy he snapped at Sokka, and he hadn’t meant to be so torn between angsting about his  _ thing _ with Sokka and his duty as Fire Lord. They fed each other - the more he worried about being so distracted by Sokka, the more he felt he was failing as a leader. The more he felt he was failing as a leader, the less worthy he felt of Sokka. The world ran on cycles and he was trapped firmly in this one. Quite apart from the fact he wasn’t even actually dating Sokka. And how, despite his best efforts at denial and repression, his feelings were getting more and more blatantly apparent. 

He was the Fire Lord of a nation still in the midst of war reparations, and he was also, absolutely, pining after his best friend. Who he had agreed to fake-date. Because his life, while partially blessed, was also absurd.

“Hey.” Sokka approached, and Zuko could feel every centimetre of his bare torso and the weight of dozens of previous Fire Lords on his shoulders. “You’re doing great. You’ll keep doing great - because you care, and you listen. You don’t have to be perfect. You have advisors for a reason. But you are a voice for your people, and you’ve taken responsibility for the past so often I think you blame yourself far more than you should, for actions that weren’t yours. 

“And that’s your legacy. Standing up for what’s right, and doing the difficult things that nobody else would do. Like facing the nation’s pride and saying war was wrong. Like using your power and resources to help fix what your nation broke. Demonstrating humility and kindness as a source of respect.

“And I don’t think anyone else in line could do that. Not even Uncle Iroh. He’s a part of the nation’s old history too much. But everything you’ve ever done, even as a child, has been to try to honour your country and your people. Even when you were fighting us, you were just trying to do what you had been told was right. You’re a child of Sozin, but also Roku. You walk a line between the fierce strength of fire, and the balance of the Avatar. 

“The reason you’re struggling at the Peace Talks is because you have played such an integral role in making this a reality in the first place. Your work isn’t done, you’re right. It never will be. But you’re doing your best and looking to your advisors and your people when you’re unsure. That’s all anyone can ask of you.”

Sokka’s fingers grazed over Zuko’s forearm. He shivered, despite the heat of day approaching.

“When did you start giving speeches?” He said, hoarsely.

“I got some practise in with Bato after the war briefing incident. And the consulate incident. And the-” Sokka quirked his lips in a self-deprecating joke, and that was it - that was Sokka through and through. Zuko’s heart swelled with overwhelming affection.

“How many incidents were there?” Zuko asked, distantly feeling the smile coming through.

“Don’t ask. I still wake up in the middle of the night sometimes, thinking about them.” Sokka laughed, and the sound loosened something tight in Zuko’s chest.

“If it’s anything like the ‘no pants’ dream Aang had, I don’t want to know.” Zuko smirked, the heaviness that had been weighing down on him lessening. Not by much, but by enough.

“Yeah, that was kinda disturbing.” Sokka conceded, and grinned. “Come on, Your Fire Lord-iness. Let’s go find the gang. I’ll spar this afternoon instead.” 

“Okay.” Zuko grinned, and picked up his shirt, brandishing it. “But we’re going via the laundry and my rooms.”

“Shame. I think you could really pull off the half-dressed look.” Sokka waggled his eyebrows, and Zuko laughed, pushing down the part of him that wanted to run ten miles from the ‘flirting’ before he started believing in it.

“Not everyone is ready for my magnificent body, babe.” He watched Sokka carefully in case he had misstepped. Sokka looked surprised - but not disgusted. More amused, actually.

“You make a good point. It’s why I only display my arms. If I showed more there might be fatalities.” Sokka flexed dramatically, then relaxed and draped the arm over Zuko’s shoulders to help drag him away from the training area.

“Yeah, it’s not because your village is absolutely freezing, at all.” Zuko failed at deadpan - it had always been more of a Mai speciality.

“Nope!”

* * *

“How could you abandon me like that?!” Zuko clamped down on his laughter as Sokka slid into the seat next to him at the lunch table.

“I already know how to dance. I thought you knew that you’d be accompanying me to the celebration.” Zuko attempted to keep his face serene, even though their friends were all varying levels of amused by Sokka’s distress.

“You left me! Iroh had me doing step after step for a whole hour!” Sokka’s hand snuck over to Zuko’s plate and stole one of the pear-apple slices. Zuko only allowed it because he did feel a tiny bit sorry for him.

“Imagine firebending training with him.” Zuko pointed out, darkly. “So many drills…”

“Aw, have the world’s smallest pipa.” Sokka mimed playing the instrument, and Zuko shoved him - but not too hard. “Hey!”   
  
“Hey yourself!” Zuko retorted, eloquently.

“Well, I’ll have my revenge. Whether I want to or not.” Zuko raised an eyebrow, and Sokka sighed, and elaborated. “I’m definitely going to tread on your toes. Or headbutt you. Or fall over your robe. Or-”   
  
“Hey, Sokka, it’s okay. Don’t worry - you might be new to this, but I can dance. I’ll look after you.” Zuko smiled at him, encouragingly, and was gratified to get a small, nervous smile back.

“Uh. Thanks.” Sokka looked away, embarrassed.

“Zuko, couldn’t you have let him stew for a little longer? I was having fun!” Katara poked out her tongue at Sokka, which effectively rendered both siblings mute as they became utterly preoccupied one-upping each other. For all that they were adults now, some things transcended age. Including, apparently, wanting to taunt your siblings.

Not that Zuko would know, but he assumed as much. Since Katara and Sokka were the only healthy reference point he had, he supposed he could be wrong.

“Immature.” Toph shook her head, sighing deeply, before sending a small rock across the room to hit Sokka on the head.

“Hey! Toph!” Sokka squawked.

“It was Aang!” Toph pointed deliberately at Suki instead of Aang.

“Toph, we all know you know where Aang is.” Suki rolled her eyes.

“What? How could you-” Aang sent a rock in her direction and she caught it, effortlessly. “Ugh, fine.”

“I’m going to-” Zuko began.

“Catch, Princess!” Toph sent another rock at Katara, who caught it with water from the jug on the table.

“Hey!” Katara flexed her fingers, and the water formed several tiny whips.

“I’m-” Zuko tried to cut into the gathering chaos.

“If we’re doing this, I’m on the side against Katara!” Sokka picked up a stone from a peach-nectarine and threw it at Aang.

“Guys-” Zuko stopped trying to speak, and got up from his seat as quietly as possible to avoid attention.

“Why did you assume I’m on her side?” Aang protested. Everyone looked at him. “Okay, point taken.”

Zuko took the opportunity to retreat. He had a long string of preparations to go through, before the ceremony. And a dance to practise. Not that he was nervous. At all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! The final chapter is a work in progress as I post this. Should be up soon!
> 
> As ever, comments and kudos feed my dark soul :D Thanks for reading! <3


	3. (But This Time For Real)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a dance, a duck, and a dock. And, at last, resolution.

“I’m happy to dry my own hair, really.” Zuko assured his attendant. He received a ferociously displeased expression that quelled his fledgeling protest. “Alright.” He conceded, weakly. “I just feel like this is a lot of fuss, when I’m more than capable-”   
  
“Come now, Zuko. Your abilities with fire are not in question.” Uncle Iroh entered the room, fully primped and preened for the Ball, and looking far too happy about it. “Your abilities with fashionable hairstyles, on the other hand…”   
  
“What’s wrong with how I do my hair?” Zuko demanded, and had the dubious joy of seeing every single attendant deliberately look aside as his Uncle laughed, heartily, at his expense.

“Nothing, nephew. You tie your hair with the determination of an ox!” Iroh said this as if it were a compliment. Zuko was unconvinced. “You are a practical man, and ornate styles require particular skills that you have no need of day to day. It is alright to need help to style your hair. We employ such skilled people for just this reason!” Iroh nodded respectfully to the attendants. The one fixing Zuko’s hair nodded in agreement, and stabbing a pin into his bun perhaps a tad harder than necessary when Zuko tried to nod as well.

“I just wish I could be less of a burden when it comes to getting ready for state events. Especially if they happen so often, recently.” Zuko admitted, quietly.

“If I may, Fire Lord Zuko?” The attendant barrelled on without waiting for permission, and Zuko was torn between annoyance and gratitude that the staff had adjusted so well and happily to someone who would not burn them for insolence. “It is an honour to help you prepare to represent the Fire Nation. You wear something of the devotion of your subjects, on your head. Reminding you of your purpose. But, if you would like some ways to secure your hair, day to day, I’m sure we would be happy to instruct you. There are many styles that are both practical and fashionable.”

“Thank you-”   
  
“Ji, Fire Lord Zuko.”   
  
“Ji. Your instruction would be much appreciated.” Zuko fought the urge to roll his eyes at Iroh, who was looking at him like he might cry of pride, for something so simple.

“Now that is settled, it is time for the ceremony to begin.” 

“I am ready, Uncle.” Zuko stood, the heavier than usual weight of his robes making his movements more deliberate. He sometimes wondered how much of the classic aristocratic movement patterns were just because of the impractical, laden nature of their clothing.

“So,” Iroh said, as they walked to the hall. “Are you looking forward to the dance?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Zuko replied, desperately trying to control the pitch of his voice so it didn’t give away the abrupt rush of nerves consuming him.

“Ambassador Sokka is quite the partner.” Iroh chucked, and Zuko flushed, deeply.

“I fear for my feet.” Zuko deadpanned, steadfastly ignoring his other, less sober emotions - there would be enough time for inebriation  _ after _ the difficult, coordinated dancing.

“I don’t know if it is your feet you should be worrying about.” Iroh grinned.

“I don’t know what you mean by that, Uncle.” He wrinkled his nose in feigned disgust and confusion.

They arrived at the doors, where he could already see staff and guests alike mingling in the main hall. Iroh paused to straighten Zuko’s collar, and then they stepped forward, the woman guarding the door announcing them.

* * *

The atmosphere in the hall was warm, convivial, and tremendously busy. The sliding doors at the end of the large room were open to let in a gentle breeze from the gardens, wafting the calming scent of jasmine into the vanilla, spice and various drinks at the table studded across the sides of the space. The centre was carefully empty, most people congregating around it naturally; clearly aware that it was to be the dance floor for the evening.

Zuko steeled himself, as he was approached by a salvo of Earth-nation businessmen, intent on discussing some kind of deal regarding the promised delivery of additional flood-barrier support to the regions near Kyoshi Island. No doubt after some kind of profit, coming as they were from the upper ring of Ba Sing Se. He politely excused himself, abandoning Iroh to them; or possibly them to him. His Uncle could be a formidable opponent, on the political battlefield as well as the physical.

“Zuko! It’s a pleasure to see you.” He did his best not to flinch as Katara grabbed his arm, her grip vice-like. “I’m so sorry I didn’t find you sooner; I know I promised to discuss the traveling healers provision with you.” She smiled, broad and fake, and leaned in. “Have they gone?” She hissed, urgently.

Zuko flicked his eyes past Katara, to see a small collection of young men and women, who were looking rather like snubbed suitors. He raised an eyebrow.

“They know you’re dating the Avatar, right?” He enquired, unimpressed.

“They’re not for me!” Katara whispered, rolling her eyes. “They keep asking me about Sokka! I don’t think everyone has caught on that you two are dating, and honestly, I could definitely do with hearing a lot less about how much they want to lick Sokka’s-” She cut herself off, looking a mixture of horrified and disgusted that was the supreme remit of younger sisters faced with the reality that their older brother was, apparently, attractive. “Please make them go away before I gag. No offence.” She added, hastily.

Zuko rolled his eyes. “None taken. Azula nearly stabbed me when I started dating Mai. Then again, that could have been because she saw it as encroaching on her property…” He shrugged. “Shame there’s no occasion for violence.” He considered the best approach. They were harassing Katara; they were trying to muscle in on Sokka and his gorgeous, defined muscles. They had to go. Zuko summoned his most powerful glare, and all the righteous rage at their trying to steal his - at trying to harass Katara - and they scattered. “They’re gone.”

“Thank you.” Katara breathed, and let go of his arm. “That was quite a glare, Zuko. Jealous streak?” She teased, lightly, patting his arm gently.

“Hardly.” Zuko coughed, ducked his head to hide the inevitable incoming blush. “I doubt Sokka would see anything in them. They’re all inexperienced nobles who would drool over any warrior they saw. Undiscerning imbeciles.” He waved, dismissively, and Katara smiled, knowingly. “Oh, shut up.”

“I didn’t say a word.” Katara winked, and turned to rejoin Aang, who was in deep conversation with Toph and two other Earth Kingdom representatives.

Zuko took a deep breath, and assessed his surroundings. This wasn’t so bad. He could handle this. The quiet, near-anonymity of a busy hall was almost invigorating. Nobody looking at him, lots of groups of people to hide behind while evading conversations. Perfect.

“It’s time for the first dance, Zuko. People are already getting a little tipsy.” Uncle Iroh appeared at his elbow, and he nearly jumped right out of his robes. His voice was a little slurred, and he seemed to be glowing with happiness. He waved, in what was either a failure at being discreet or success at being inflammatory, to an older, water tribe woman, grinning in a way that Uncles should not be allowed to grin.

“By people, I assume you mean you?” Zuko shot back, not one to miss an opportunity to return fire.

“Of course!” Iroh laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder. “Now go, dance with your boyfriend. You might even enjoy it.”

Zuko moved tentatively towards the dance floor. The attendants around the room moved in unison, gently lowering the flames in the torches by the edges of the room and flaring the chandeliers over the centre. He edged forwards. The change in ambient lighting made him feel far too exposed. He was going to trip. He was going to be the first Fire Lord to fall over before his dance had even begun, and it was going to be a disaster, and-

Sokka was there. Leaning against a table opposite, nonchalant, though his eyes were fixed on Zuko. Intent. His gaze felt like the blue fire of life he had learned with the Sun Warriors. Zuko watched him push himself away from the table, his arm muscles flexing and standing out in sharp relief in the flickering light. He was wearing silk, his tunic sleeveless but made formal by the silver shoulder-pads and sleek lines of an intricately patterned blue cape. The navy embroidery flowed beautifully, centred around a design he couldn’t make out because it was behind him, and Zuko was very much focussed on Sokka’s approach.

He hadn’t realised how graceful Sokka had become. He moved with purpose, streamlined like the ships and airships that he had helped design. Nothing wasted. Like an efficient predator. Zuko shivered; the room suddenly felt several degrees too cold, even though he was a firebender. Sokka’s expression was uncharacteristically serious. Even when they sparred, he would break form to share a grin of excitement at their work together. Was he nervous? Did he regret his rash decision to double down on their deception? He seemed so sombre, focussed; perhaps he didn’t even want to dance with him. This whole event was foolish. Zuko should turn, run before it went too far, but he was transfixed.

And then Sokka smiled.

It was so horribly cliche. His smile made Zuko light up inside; melt with relief. The intimidation of the smooth, strong - and let’s face it, sexy - man before him gave way to a bloom of pure affection and love so wild he couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hey.” Sokka reached him, and gently took his hand, his other arm carefully wrapping around Zuko’s waist, heavy and warm and just exactly right.

“Hey yourself.” Zuko breathed, reaching up to return the hold. Sokka was so close, it was overwhelming. He smelled of vanilla and cinnamon, salt and wine; his handsome face soft and contented in the firelight, eclipsing Zuko’s vision as he looked up to talk to him. He was glad they were in the almost-embrace of dancing; otherwise he worried he may have fallen, yet again.

“You look amazing.” Sokka tilted his head slightly, eyes skimming over Zuko and making him shiver with the attention. “You’ve done something different to your hair.”

“Oh, uh,” Zuko cleared his throat to try and make his voice at least a little stronger. “It’s fashionable. Apparently. You clean up well, too.” He flushed deeply. Hopefully the lowered lighting would conceal some of it.

“Thanks. Hey, remind me that I want to show you my cloak properly, after the dance?” Sokka grinned, and it was goofy and friendly and so Sokka-like that Zuko had to hold on tighter to repress the quiet giggle threatening to emerge.

“Okay.” He took a deep breath, and flicked his gaze to the orchestra, ready to play. “So, I think we should probably dance now. Everyone is waiting for us to start.”

“Well then,” Sokka tightened his arm about Zuko’s waist, and Zuko’s breath hitched. “It wouldn’t do to keep the Fire Nation waiting.” This time, Sokka’s smile felt almost wicked.

“No.” Zuko spoke so faintly he wasn’t sure it was audible, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was the sharply vivid points of contact with Sokka, and the music.

It was a customary Fire Nation dance; that is to say, regimented and formal at the start, the push and pull of it not unlike stepping through a sun greeting kata. Palms and wrists touching and reaching away, and Zuko spared a moment from his concentration to wonder if dancing had been part of what made Iroh realise the similarities between the bending methodologies. 

The music span on, gathering speed and intricacy over time. Soon Zuko’s idle musing was banished, in favour of anxiously counting the more complex steps. Partway through the spinning and moving back and forth, Tui and La, he caught Sokka’s eyes, and Sokka winked. Zuko realised that Sokka hadn’t stumbled or hesitated for one moment, and had to stifle a laugh. The dramatics had all been an elaborate deception; a ploy for pity or humour, Zuko was uncertain. Likely both. 

They gripped forearms, spinning and using each other as a counterweight, and met in the middle, momentum resting back to the centre of the spin in their finally slowing breaths. In that moment of mutual reliance, Zuko felt a small epiphany. This was them; the dance, yes, but the trust of it. The trust of mutual support; letting neither fall; of sparring together matched in will and steel and strength. Sokka balanced him.

The music lulled, and the audience acknowledged them with applause, before flooding the dance floor with dignitaries and ambassadors.

Sokka stepped back, and Zuko nearly couldn’t make his fingers untwine. With some effort, he reluctantly allowed the air to come between them again. Zuko didn’t want to move away. He didn’t want to straighten out his robes and close his eyes and tidily repress everything he felt. He didn’t want to be faking this anymore.

He wanted this for real.

Sokka tilted his head to the side, and frowned. “You seem not okay.”

“I-” Zuko’s ability to speak gave out entirely, and he looked away, shame stealing his blood and raising it to his skin.

“Come on. Let’s go outside for a bit; it’s so warm and muzzy. It can’t be helping. And I can’t show you my cloak on the dance floor.” Zuko wanted to decline, to say something that would justify running away from the event and Sokka’s well meaning attention. But Sokka’s hand slid into his, and he was helpless to resist the tidal wave of his enthusiasm. Zuko let himself be swept away, past the dancing couples, out onto a balcony.

* * *

The cool air washed over him, softly scented with jasmine and orange blossom from the gardens. After the heady whirl of wine and soot and Sokka, it was just what he needed to feel somewhat sane again. Of course, it had to be Sokka who knew he needed air. Even escaping from Sokka didn’t let him escape him. Zuko felt like he didn’t even want to escape; and wasn’t that the problem?

“You’re broody.” Sokka jerked him out of his reverie.

“What?”

“You, my dear Fire Lord, are brooding.” Sokka waved his pointing finger in Zuko’s face, and then folded his arms, furrowing his eyebrows accusingly. “You’re not allowed to brood; the talks are basically over! You’ve done it, this is supposed to be the fun part.”

“The fun part? Sokka, you know I’ve been waiting all night for me to mess something up.” Zuko protested. The familiarity of their half-serious banter was overwhelming.

“You haven’t messed up. It’s been a success; now enjoy it.” Sokka moved to stand next to him, and Zuko stiffened as Sokka’s arm wrapped around his shoulder. Somehow, the contact felt more weighted now.

“I-” This was the time for him to make his confession; what could possibly be a better chance than on a moonlit balcony? “Sokka, I-” Zuko’s resolve crumbled. “You wanted to show me your cloak?”

“Oh! Yeah. Hang on.” Sokka stepped back, and removed the cloak, laying it so the design was displayed across the balcony railings. “See if you can guess who they mean?”

The design held two main circles; the outer one had four smaller circles at each of the compass points, holding symbols in each.

Zuko grinned. “So I’m guessing the southern wave is Katara?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s only one you’ve got right. Don’t get cocky.” Sokka smiled back, easily.

“The trophy in the west has got to be Toph - and the arrow in the north is Aang?”

“Full marks so far.” Sokka moved closer, as if to peer over Zuko’s shoulder as he examined the cloak.

“The east - the fans are, uh, Suki?” Zuko crushed down the jealousy; Suki was important to Sokka - to both of them. She didn’t deserve ire for being loved as she should be. Sokka was proud of the cloak. Just because Zuko wasn’t on the outer circle didn’t mean he should feel this bitterly hurt.

“Mhm. And in the centre?” Sokka was watching Zuko carefully, almost wary, and it made him feel like there was a weight constricting his chest; like wearing a binder for too long.

“The boomerang is definitely you.” Zuko laughed, the sound foreign to his ears, forced. “But I don’t know what the bird…” Zuko tensed, stared, his laughter falling flat.

“A turtleduck.” Sokka’s voice was gentle, and entirely absent of mockery.

“I-” Zuko’s emotions roiled, stirring and cresting and crashing over him, breaking his paralysis. “I have to go.” He choked out, and tore himself away from the balcony, walking briskly and with a murderous glare to banish anyone who tried to prevent his escape.

He didn’t look back. He couldn’t bear to know if it was all an elaborate act.

* * *

Zuko hadn’t slept. His whole body felt like it had been shocked by lightning - and he had first hand experience of that sensation. His skin was crawling with fractious energy, anxiety and fire bubbling up inside him; a combination that all too often literally blew up in his face when he tried to express it externally. He knew that he could actually breathe, but it didn’t change that he felt crushed and drained of air, like the struggle for oxygen when making his perilous journey through the northern ice caves. Every inhalation was a shock to his system, and his internal flame was too riotous to draw on for calm.

Every time he thought he was calmer, he remembered Sokka’s gentleness, or his smile, or the way he held him up through dancing and falling over. It was usually soothing, in a melancholy way, but now it smarted, made him panic even more, in a continuous loop. Relax, remember, resurgence.

“Firelord Zuko?” Aang’s voice rushed through the locked door easily.

“What!” Zuko hoped he sounded more annoyed than terrified.

“You ran off at the celebrations before I could talk to you, and we’re leaving this afternoon. Can I come in?” He sounded as hopeful as ever; still so different than Zuko had expected at first. But Aang’s maturity was growing, surely as his wisdom; he hadn’t broken down the door. It was progress.

“Suit yourself. You’re the Avatar, I couldn’t exactly stop you.” He managed a small smile, despite his anxiety.

“You’re not wrong!” Aang fell through the door, shutting it behind him and air-scootering over to sit by Zuko next to the window overlooking the caldera. “Wow, what a view! Good to brood over, huh?”

“I am not - I - I don’t brood.” Zuko protested. He shoved at Aang playfully, and then flashed back to sparring with Sokka. His mood did yet another abrupt reversal, and he clamped down on the resulting discomfort; he owed Aang his time, as the Avatar and as a friend. “Why are you - how can I help?”

“I’m fine.” Aang grinned, obnoxiously happy. “Well, mostly.” His exuberant demeanour dimmed, but brightened again swiftly. “You, Zuko, are mostly not fine. Between us we’re great!”

“You’re deflecting.”   
  
“So are you!” Aang sighed, and drew his arms around his shins, curled up to stare out at the caldera, chin on forearms. “I guess I just thought that it would be easier. You know - stop the Fire Nation, mission accomplished. 

“But now I have to be the Avatar, and there isn’t one clear goal anymore, and everyone has an opinion on what I do and how I do it. I thought my past lives were bossy and unhelpful! But they have nothing on an Earth Kingdom noble who’s sitting on piles of resources in an old colony they co-ruled.”

“I know how you feel.” Zuko tentatively reached out, his tangle of emotions about Sokka dissolving quickly in the face of Aang’s quiet overwhelm. The feeling was too familiar for him to selfishly ignore in favour of his dubious excuse for a love life. “I’m not the Avatar, but being Fire Lord is a huge responsibility. I sometimes feel like I have no clue what I’m doing - it’s not like I had a good example to follow.”

“That’s just it,” Aang buried his head on his knees, muffling his voice. “I’m scared that everything I do won’t be good enough. My past lives all made incredible things, and had hard decisions, and I have to live up to that. But I’m just a kid. I’m going to mess up, and everyone will know the Avatar is just out of his depth.”

“You have a legacy to uphold.” Zuko said, softly. “And you’re worried because there’s no way to be perfect. You can’t please everyone, and you don’t know everything; you rely on your advisors and your friends for support. You don’t have the experience yet to make choices on your own, so you have to step back and listen and work around obstacles, or find a way to make things better that nobody has had to find before.”

“Yeah. See, you can see it! I’m failing.” Aang looked up at Zuko, worry too old for him creasing his brow.

“No.” Zuko corrected. “I can see that you’re trying your best.” He took a breath, and smiled. “Someone...very wise once told me, you can’t be perfect. But you can do your best, and listen to advisors and your people when you’re unsure. That’s what you’re doing. Listening to others and knowing that you don’t always know best isn’t weakness. You have advisors for a reason; yes, you are the Avatar and in you rests a great deal of power. But your strength isn’t your bending. It’s your ability to see people, and forgive them, and make them into friends - like you did for me. You don’t have to do this alone, Aang. If you asked any of your friends, they’d all say the same thing.”

“Thanks, Zuko.” Aang hugged so tightly that Zuko wondered if he’d been studying how to make hugs more crushing from Toph. “That person sounds really smart. And kind of like they’re good for you.”

“Yeah, they are.” Zuko crushed Aang back as best he could, voice somewhat strained. “Hey, Aang, if you’re going to keep this grip up, could you bend some air back into my lungs?”

“Oh, sorry!” Aang leapt back in a flurry of air currents, and Zuko laughed, feeling lighter. “Anyway, I should go. Katara and the others are probably wondering where I went. I just wanted to talk to you before everyone headed back to the South Pole. Are you coming to wave us off? I thought you might not, because Sokka looked kind of down.”

“He did?” Zuko stood. Somehow, speaking with Aang, realising how he had internalised Sokka’s reassuring words well enough to repeat them where they would help, he had started to feel more secure. Friendship - at worst, he and Sokka were, firmly, friends. Close ones. And if he didn’t completely mess this up by not at least waving goodbye, the worst case outcome of rejection was just a friend and some more pining, just less open-ended. He’d survived worse. “I’m coming with you.”

* * *

The walk to the docks seemed to take forever. Aang was once again burning with energy, but Zuko was mildly thankful for it; his guards might be scandalised by how recklessly Aang was air-scootering across the grounds, but it meant he could walk himself there, quickly, without seeming over-eager.

Sokka was leaning against the side of the boat. He did seem glum; Katara kept prodding him, and instead of retaliating he just half-heartedly batted her away. They managed to get right up to the boat, Aang rocketing right to Katara, without Sokka noticing much.

Mischief seizing him, Zuko reached out, and poked Sokka’s gorgeous, muscled arm, before he could overthink himself into just staring at the aesthetic perfection.

“Hey, Katara, would you quit it, I told you I’m not in the mood-” Sokka’s eyes went wide, as he realised he had grabbed Zuko’s wrist. “Zuko. Uh. Hi.” Sokka blinked at him, slowly, and then he snatched his hand from Zuko’s wrist, and - was Sokka  _ blushing _ as he looked away? “You came.”

“Of course I did. You’re my friend, Sokka.” Zuko wanted to reach out, hug the stiff awkwardness away, but he didn’t think it would be well received. 

“Right. Friends.” Sokka closed his eyes, and he seemed so desolate Zuko ached to comfort him. “Thank you. I didn’t mean for things to get so - I don’t want to lose you, Zuko.”

“Neither did I.” Zuko said; he couldn’t resist any longer, and took Sokka’s warm, strong hand in his. “You won’t lose me. I shouldn’t have run away, at the party, I just - I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or to assume - oh, Tui and La, I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t say this. I - I care about you, Sokka. I’ve spent this whole time hoping you didn’t notice how hopelessly gone I am for you.”

“Zuko.”

“I don’t know if you feel the same, and if you don’t that’s fine!”

“Zuko-”

“You’re still my friend and I hope that will stand, even if-”

“Zuko!” Sokka practically yelled, finally cutting Zuko off.

“Yeah?” Zuko bit his lip, anxiety flooding back now he was faced with the reality of his confession.

“I have a really important question for you.” He said, unnervingly seriously.

“Okay?”

“What part of me putting a goddamn turtleduck on my cloak was too subtle for you?” Sokka grinned, wildly, and grabbed Zuko’s arms.

“I - wasn’t sure if it was part of the act?” Zuko hazarded, pretending that his voice wasn’t slightly squeaky from Sokka’s grip.

“Zuko, a turtleduck is not a warrior’s animal. I wouldn’t put it on my clothing unless I was deadly serious.”

“Should I be insulted?”

“No! Look. If I’d been pretending, it would have been something that everyone sees in you. Dragon, or fire, or dual swords. But - that’s not you, or not just you. What really defines you, for me, is the fact that after everything, you’re still kind.” Sokka smiled again, gently, and Zuko melted internally while scrambling for a way to reciprocate.

“You give good advice!” He blurted, unthinkingly.

“I contain multitudes.” Sokka acknowledged, and winked.

“Really?” Zuko rolled his eyes, to hide the fact that the wink was, somehow, cute. He could blame the blushing on the sun, right?

“Wait, hold on.” Zuko looked up at Sokka, worried by his tone of realisation. “If you liked me - were you literally swept off your feet by me that time for breakfast? And you liked me being suave at the dance. Totally. You blushed, for sure, like now!” Sokka teased, but was so happy with it that it was, once again, entirely forgivably endearing.

“You blush too!” It wasn’t his strongest comeback, he’d admit. So instead, he took a breath, feeding the flame of hope and happiness in his chest, and kissed Sokka.

Sokka’s lips were warm, and soft, and tasted of green tea and electricity, tingling through him as he slid his arms to wrap around Sokka’s waist and shoulder. He drew back reluctantly, and opened his eyes to examine the soft blush suffusing Sokka’s suntanned brown skin. Sokka’s arms around him were secure and strong; his tiny smile was sweeter than the honey he liked in his tea.

“See,” Zuko teased. “You blush too.” He stroked a finger over Sokka’s cheek, tenderly, just because he could.

“Hey, lovebirds! I can see you snogging with my feet, get it together!” Toph yelled.

Sokka and Zuko leapt apart, and promptly realised their limbs were too entangled. In one moment of slow realisation, they both looked down at the gap between the dock, and the boat, and understood the inevitability of fate.

They crashed into the water.

Toph’s laughter rang out, loud and cacophonous, waiting for them to resurface.

* * *

By the time they had emerged, dripping with saltwater and lost dignity, Hakkoda and Iroh had arrived.

“Sokka! Why are you and Zuko-?” Hakkoa began.

“No reason!” They both shouted, whie Toph cackled evilly in the background, and whispered to Suki, who cracked up, and clearly passed the message to Aang and Katara judging by their half-gleeful, half-disgusted expressions.

“Ah, young love.” Iroh sighed. He and Hakkoda shared an amused glance. 

“Since your son likes our hospitality enough to swim in our docks, he’s welcome to stay on for a little while. We have excellent training facilities, and could do with someone to represent the Water Tribe at the more informal meetings around here. There is a project we could use some support with.” Iroh offered.

“I think that would be an excellent idea; now trade links are established, we should only ever be a boat ride away.” Hakkoda nodded, while Sokka and Zuko stared, mystified by the conversation between their respective father figures.

“Or Appa-ride!” Aang shouted, from afar.

“That too.” Hakkoa nodded, and turned to Sokka. “Well, Sokka? Would you be happy to represent us here, for a while?”

“Yes!” Sokka leapt forward and hugged Hakkoa, who seemed like he regretted giving him the chance to do so, but sighed and embraced his son, resigned to being mildly damp as a result. Zuko seized the moment of distraction to carefully bend warm air around himself, drying off, and feeling slightly smug.

“Zuko, once we have waved off our guests, perhaps you would like to help me brew Sokka some green tea, while he unpacks back into the guest room and finds some...drier clothing?”

“I’d love to, Uncle.” He watched as Sokka emphatically hugged Toph goodbye to make sure he got some form of revenge. “In fact, I might prepare in advance. Before Sokka realises that I could have dried him off too.”

“Zuko!” Iroh exclaimed, and Zuko started, alarmed, and worried he was being inconsiderate. “You are becoming very wise.” Iroh grinned, and stepped forward to wave as the guests finally boarded the boat. “I’ll hold the fort.  _ Run _ !”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! It's been a while, but I finally got the ending to co-operate! Hope you all enjoy :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I hope you've enjoyed this! I'm not very used to writing for this fandom, so I hope I'm doing it justice!
> 
> As ever, if you liked this, your comments and kudos feed my dark, dark soul :p
> 
> Thank you for reading! :)


End file.
